Lost and Found
by Scarletfern
Summary: Patterson goes to David's grave after the events of 2x22. Kind of a drabble. That is turning into a series of drabbles.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't know where this came from, but once I thought about it, it sort of started to make sense in a weird sort of way. Anyhow, enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot or any of these characters.**

 **…**

She doesn't know what makes her go that way; she just felt a pull in that direction. And once she starts that way, she can't _not_ go there. It's not something she can explain; it just… _feels_ right…. And the closer she gets, the harder she feels the gravitational, emotional yank that sends her helplessly retreating back to the beginning.

When she arrives, it's almost dark. She silently enters through the wrought iron gate and breaks into a desperate run, not thinking, not needing to. It's been so long since she's been here, but she can still remember.

Her heart catches in her throat at the sight of it. She'd thought she'd forgiven herself, but really she hadn't. It feels like it happened yesterday and forever ago at the same time.

She kneels down and carefully pulls away the weeds that have grown up around it. She falls back, rocking onto her heels.

She reaches out and traces the engraving with trembling fingers. _David Wagner._

"It's all over now. I'm so sorry, David." She whispers, sinking down onto the damp ground, silent tears rolling down her face and dropping soundlessly onto the grass.

After a while, her aching legs go numb, but still she stays, kneeling at the grave.

Hours drag by, late evening turning to night, night turning to early morning.

Even as dawn starts to break through the darkness, she stays there.

Lost.


	2. Chapter 2

**Many thanks to BlindSpotTeam10 for the idea of this 2** **nd** **chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot or any of these characters.**

 **…**

When he gets back to the apartment, he wistfully pulls a slightly faded photograph from his pocket and puts it on the table, smoothing out the creases. The WitSec people had warned him about bringing things with him that could connect him to his past life, but he had held on to the picture of Patterson.

No one knew he was alive, not even her. Both the Witness Protection Program and the woman called Mayfair had made sure of that.

He had wanted to tell her, but they had forbidden it, saying that it would only put them in more danger than they were already in.

"It's for her own good," they had said. And, running his fingers over the jagged scar that cut across his throat, he knew it was true. He may have hurt her, but she was better off without him.

"Just promise me that you'll take care of her." They had promised. Patterson would be kept safe and would never know that he had been forced to abandon her.

 _I'm so sorry, Patterson._

It had been two years, and he still couldn't stand the thought that he'd hurt her, but if leaving her behind could keep her safe, then he would do it. He would do anything to keep her safe.

 _She may be better off without me, but without her, I'm just…._

 _Lost._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot or any of these characters.**

 **...**

After Patterson had come home from the cemetery, she had gone straight to bed and cried herself to sleep.

Seeing his grave again had taken something from her, had given her back the emptiness that she had felt after his murder. She can feel herself spiraling out of control again, can feel the deep void inside her heart that only _he_ can fill.

But because he's dead, he can't fill it, so she just continues spiraling downward, into the deep, dark abyss, hopelessly trying to forgive herself, knowing that she never will.

So she desperately tries to forget instead, but that doesn't work either.

And so she starts to believe that she will always feel this lonely emptiness that had never actually seemed to leave her in the first place.

The team is worried about her, she knows they are. She hasn't been to work in three days and won't answer their phone calls or text messages.

 _What's the point? It's not like they can help me anyway. I'm lost without him._

 _Lost._


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot or any of these characters.**

 **...**

He is sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the television screen as the evening news comes on. He's not paying much attention, but that changes when he recognizes a dark haired young woman with tattoos.

 _The tattoos, oh God, it's the woman with the tattoos. Patterson's case._ He fumbles with the remote, desperately trying to turn the volume up as the newsman rolls the footage.

"Breaking news, tonight, meet the FBI agents responsible for the fall of the terrorist organization, Sandstorm."

The footage switches to a group of people. And he freezes. Partially because one of those people is Patterson, but mostly because of the look in her eyes.

She seems to be a shell of her former self, broken. Of course, no one that didn't know her like he did would have even noticed, but he could tell.

She was hiding it well, but he knows her and the shadowed look hidden deep in her eyes is almost too much for him to handle.

She looks totally and completely lost. Just like him. And maybe, just maybe they can find each other again.

 _Lost, but maybe not forever._


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot or any of these characters.**

 **...**

 _This is crazy, she thinks I'm dead. What am I doing? She'll have a heart attack._

But it was too late to turn back now. He was already at her door.

 _What if she doesn't even live here any more?_

This was starting to seem a little ridiculous. He had given up his witness protection and flown several thousand miles to get back to New York, all because he had seen his ex-girlfriend (who thought he was dead) on TV and she had seemed depressed.

The WitSec people had thought that he had gone completely insane. But, he missed her. And if something was wrong, then he needed to be with her. The way he saw it, they both needed each other and had never actually stopped.

But….they hadn't even been together when he had "died", and for all he knew, she was seeing someone else.

But he also hadn't come all that way to just stand there. He knew that he had to try.

So he rings the doorbell and waits. And waits. And waits some more. And after ten minutes of standing there feeling lost, just when he's about to leave in defeat, the door is flung open and suddenly, after two long years, he's face to face with her.

She stares at him in shock. She looks like she's been crying and is definitely looking like she might pass out. But she's there. And she's real. And that's good enough for him.

 _Found._


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot or any of these characters.**

…

When the doorbell rings, Patterson barely reacts. There's no one in the world that she wants to see anyway. Eventually though, she does get up from where she was sitting at the kitchen table and walks slowly into the living room.

She stands there, looking at the door. She sits down on the couch, still watching the door.

The bell rings for a second time. Whoever it is, they clearly aren't leaving.

She gets up and moves hesitantly over to the door. She glances through the peephole and gasps. She does a double take.

 _No, it can't be._ She grasps the door frame, clinging to it for dear life.

Her first coherent thought is _I'm gonna pass out._ But she doesn't.

Her second thought is _He's not real. He's dead. He's dead._

Her third thought is _I'm losing it. I've got to go call Dr Sun._

She rubs her eyes, blinks, and turns away from the door. Then looks again. And no matter how hard she blinks, he's still there.

 _No...I'm hallucinating. I must be. But...what if I'm not…?_

And then she sees the faint scar across his throat. _Oh my God._ She flings the door open wide.

"David?" She whispers, her voice still ragged from crying. He smiles at her.

"Are you real?"

"Yeah."

She doesn't give him a chance to say anything else. She bursts into tears and throws her arms around his neck.

"Witness Protection?" She mumbles into his shoulder after thinking for a minute.

"They wouldn't let me tell you. I'm sorry." She clings to him tighter, possibly considering never letting him go again.

 _He's here. He's alive. David is alive._ She repeats it to herself over and over; it still feels like a dream. But it's not. It's real. And she's not lost anymore.

 _Found._


End file.
